Chapter 46: Dark Magic Unleashed

The darkness was suffocating. Lysandra could barely see her own hands in front of her, let alone the approaching figure of Elara. The swirling mist seemed to throb with a malevolent energy, and as it closed in around them, a low hum filled the air—a dark magic, pulsing and alive.

Lysandra's breath came in shallow gasps as she tightened her grip on Zephyrion's arm. His presence was the only thing grounding her as the mist thickened, swallowing up the courtyard and leaving them in a world of shadow. The sounds of the guards and clashing swords faded away, and all that remained was the sinister laughter of Elara.

"What are you going to do, Zephyrion?" Elara's voice came from every direction, taunting and mocking. "Do you think your sword will save her from me?"

Zephyrion's eyes burned with anger. "Stay close, Lysandra," he whispered, his voice a fierce command. He drew his sword, its blade gleaming with a faint glow as he infused it with his own magic. The light was weak against the overwhelming darkness, but it gave Lysandra a sliver of hope.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure lunged at them from the mist. Zephyrion's sword flashed in the darkness, slicing through the air with a deadly precision. The shadow dissipated with a shriek, but more came, swarming toward them from all sides.

Lysandra's heart raced as she tried to fend off the dark figures with her own magic. She raised her hands, summoning a protective barrier of light that flared around them. It flickered against the darkness, pushing back the shadowy forms that clawed at its edges. But she could feel the strain as the shadows pressed harder, their whispers seeping into her mind.

"Give in," they murmured. "You can't escape…"

"No!" Lysandra shouted, pouring more energy into the barrier. Her entire body trembled with the effort, but she refused to let the darkness break through.

Zephyrion slashed at the figures, his movements swift and lethal. "You're doing great, Lysandra," he called out, his voice a steadying force amid the chaos. "Just hold on a little longer."

As if hearing his words, Elara emerged from the mist, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Fighting back, are we?" she sneered, raising her hand as a dark tendril of energy formed in her palm. "Let's see how long you can last."

With a swift motion, she hurled the tendril at Lysandra. It streaked toward her like a bolt of lightning, too fast for her to react. Just as it was about to hit, Zephyrion moved in front of her, taking the blow himself. The force sent him staggering back, and he dropped to one knee, clutching his chest where the dark magic had struck.

"Zephyrion!" Lysandra cried, rushing to his side. Panic surged through her as she saw the dark energy spreading across his skin, seeping into his veins like poison.

Elara's laughter echoed once more, cold and triumphant. "How touching," she said. "You should have known better than to stand against me, Zephyrion."

But even as he struggled to his feet, Zephyrion's gaze remained defiant. "You underestimate us," he growled, his voice filled with resolve. "Lysandra, we fight together."

Gathering every ounce of her strength, Lysandra focused on the light within her, summoning it to push back the darkness that had taken hold of Zephyrion. Her hands glowed with a bright, healing energy, and she placed them on his chest, forcing the dark magic out of his body.

The darkness hissed and recoiled from her touch, and Lysandra felt a surge of triumph as it dissipated. She met Elara's gaze, a fierce determination burning in her eyes. "You won't take him from me," she vowed.

Elara's smile faded, her eyes narrowing. "We'll see about that," she spat, her voice laced with venom.

As the darkness began to swirl once more, Lysandra braced herself for the next wave. She was ready to fight for their freedom—no matter what it took.

To be continued…